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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| 2eb6965 | I tried to figure out whether it was day or night: if it was day I had a shot at going home, but in the hospital there was no day or night. Only shifts. Only waiting. | Joan Didion | ||
| cb4d459 | Was there ever in anyone's life span a point free in time, devoid of memory, a point when choice was any more than sum of all the choices gone before? | choices-and-consequences | Joan Didion | |
| 8d1bd7a | recognize now that there was nothing unusual in this: confronted with sudden disaster we all focus on how unremarkable the circumstances were in which the unthinkable occurred, | Joan Didion | ||
| 1a632da | Marxism in this country had even been an eccentric and quixotic passion. One oppressed class after another had seemed finally to miss the point. The have-nots, it turned out, aspired mainly to having. The minorities seemed to promise more, but finally disappointed: it developed that they actually cared about the issues, that they tended to see the integration of the luncheonette and the seat in the front of the bus as real goals, and only r.. | Joan Didion | ||
| bffad56 | if someone "chose" you, what does that tell you? Doesn't it tell you that you were available to be "chosen"? Doesn't it tell you, in the end, that there are only two people in the world? The one who "chose" you? And the other who didn't?" -- | Joan Didion | ||
| f500e6b | You had to feel the swell change. You had to go with the change. | Joan Didion | ||
| 5e46bbc | I need you to write something down, he said. It was, he said, for his new book, not for mine, a point he stressed because I was at the time researching a book that involved sports...When I gave him the note the next day he said "You can use it if you want to." What did he mean? Did he know he would not write the book? Did he have some apprehension, a shadow? Why had he forgotten to bring note cards to dinner that night? Had he not warned m.. | Joan Didion | ||
| c6119da | because at the time I began it I found my mind turning increasingly to illness, to the end of promise, the dwindling of the days, the inevitability of the fading, the dying of the brightness. Blue nights are the opposite of the dying of the brightness, but they are also its warning. | Joan Didion | ||
| 2128fa3 | Misinformation about rattlesnakes is a leitmotiv of the insomniac imagination in Los Angeles. | Joan Didion | ||
| 512c927 | When I saw the photograph I realized for the first time why the obituaries had so disturbed me. I had allowed other people to think he was dead. I had allowed him to be buried alive. | Joan Didion | ||
| 2e33564 | We might, in that indeterminate period they call mourning, be in a submarine, silent on the ocean's bed, aware of the depth charges, now near and now far, buffeting us with recollections. | Joan Didion | ||
| d9b224d | I am not much engaged by the problems of what you might call our day but I am burdened by the particular, the mad person who writes me a letter. It is no longer necessary for them even to write me. I know when someone is thinking of me. I learn to deal with this. | Joan Didion | ||
| ebe0013 | confronted with sudden disaster we all focus on how unremarkable the circumstances were in which the unthinkable occurred, the clear blue sky from which the plane fell, the routine errand that ended on the shoulder with the car in flames, the swings where the children were playing as usual when the rattlesnake struck from the ivy. | Joan Didion | ||
| eabbb9d | Aging and its evidence remain life's most predictable events, yet they also remain matters we prefer to leave unmentioned, unexplored. | predictability | Joan Didion | |
| c9a5121 | Emergency, I continue to believe, is what happens to someone else. I say that I continue to believe this even as I know that I do not. | Joan Didion | ||
| 395cdac | We increasingly justify such heightened involvement with our children as essential to their survival. We keep them on speed dial. We watch them on Skype. We track their movements. We expect every call to be answered, every changed plan reported. We fantasize unprecedented new dangers in their every unsupervised encounter. We mention terrorism, we share anxious admonitions: "It's different now." "It's not the way it was." "You can't let them.. | Joan Didion | ||
| c0ed4a8 | My stake is always, of course, in the unmentioned girl in the plaid silk dress. Remember what it was to be me: that is always the point. | Joan Didion | ||
| 35645ef | I have been looking all my life for history and have yet to find it. | Joan Didion | ||
| 56cf5b2 | It also occurred to me that this was a promise I could not keep. I could not always take care of her. I could not never leave her. She was no longer a child. She was an adult. Things happened in life that mothers could not prevent or fix. | Joan Didion | ||
| 8b29e05 | We closed the deal and moved to New York. Where in fact I had lived before, from the time I was twenty-one and just out of the English Department at Berkeley and starting work at Vogue (a segue so profoundly unnatural that when I was asked by the Conde Nast personnel department to name the languages in which I was fluent I could think only of Middle English) until I was twenty-nine and just married. | tangents | Joan Didion | |
| 94ce3ac | Memories are what you no longer want to remember. | life-philosophy | Joan Didion | |
| 822dfc4 | That Episcopal day school Marin attended from the age of four until she entered Berkeley had as its aim "the development of a realistic but optimistic attitude," and it was characteristic of Charlotte that whenever the phrase "realistic but optimistic" appeared in a school communique she read it as "realistic and optimistic." | Joan Didion | ||
| 5749a43 | How it felt to me: that is getting closer to the truth about a notebook. I sometimes delude myself about why I keep a notebook, imagine that some thrifty virtue derives from preserving everything observed. See enough and write it down, I tell myself, and then some morning when the world seems drained of wonder, some day when I am only going through the motions of doing what I am supposed to do, which is write -- on that bankrupt morning I w.. | Joan Didion | ||
| 3c923ef | Why did I write it down? In order to remember, of course, but exactly what was it I wanted to remember? How much of it actually happened? Any of it? Why do I keep a notebook at all? It is easy to deceive oneself on all those scores. The impulse to write things down is a peculiarly compulsive one, inexplicable to those who do not share it, useful if accidentally, only secondarily, in the way that compulsion tries to justify itself. I suppose.. | Joan Didion | ||
| d6a5594 | Whenever I hear about the woman's trip, which is often, I think a lot about nothin'-says-lovin'-like-something-from-the-oven and the Feminine Mystique and how it is possible for people to be the unconscious instruments of values they would strenuously reject on a conscious level, but I do not mention this to Barbara. | Joan Didion | ||
| ca70461 | So the point of my keeping a notebook has never been, nor is it now, to have an accurate factual record of what I have been doing or thinking. That would be a different impulse entirely, an instinct for reality which I sometimes envy but do not possess. | Joan Didion | ||
| 33236b6 | These people who have lost someone look naked because they think themselves invisible. I myself felt invisible for a period of time, incorporeal. I seemed to have crossed one of those legendary rivers that divide the living from the dead, entered a place in which I could be seen only by those who were themselves recently bereaved. I understood for the first time the power in the image of the rivers, the Styx, the Lethe, the cloaked ferryman.. | Joan Didion | ||
| a6499e3 | Keepers of private notebooks are a different breed altogether, lonely and resistant re-arrangers of things, anxious malcontents, children afflicted apparently at birth with some presentiment of loss. | Joan Didion | ||
| 3400423 | What seemed novel about the use of focus groups in the 1992 campaign was the increasingly narrow part of the population to which either party was interested in listening, and the extent to which this extreme selectivity had transformed the governing of the country, for most of its citizens, into a series of signals meant for someone else. | Joan Didion | ||
| e06ecf5 | Although to be driven back upon oneself is an uneasy affair at best, rather like trying to cross a border with borrowed credentials, it seems to me now the one condition necessary to the beginning of self-respect. Most of our platitudes notwithstanding, self-deception remains the most difficult deception. The tricks that work on others count for nothing in that very well-lit back alley where one keeps assignations with oneself: no winning s.. | Joan Didion | ||
| 339e5a0 | I never saw a wild thing / sorry for itself, | Joan Didion | ||
| 77108e9 | A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough / without ever having felt sorry for itself. | Joan Didion | ||
| 260bf92 | Some people around San Bernardino say that Arthwell Hayton suffered; others say that he did not suffer at all. Perhaps he did not, for time past is not believed to have any bearing upon time present, or future, out in the golden land where every day the world is born anew. | Joan Didion | ||
| 36dd6e1 | so hot that August comes on not like a month but like an affliction; | Joan Didion | ||
| a50ce19 | Why have we made a folk hero of a man who is the antithesis of all our official heroes, a haunted millionaire out of the West, trailing a legend of desperation and power and white sneakers? But then we have always done that. Our favorite people and our favorite stories become so not by any inherent virtue, but because they illustrate something deep in the grain, something unadmitted. | Joan Didion | ||
| b985f16 | Las Vegas is the most extreme and allegorical of American settlements, bizarre and beautiful in its venality and in its devotion to immediate gratification, a place the tone of which is set by mobsters and call girls and ladies' room attendants with amyl nitrite poppers in their uniform pockets. Almost everyone notes that there is no "time" in Las Vegas, no night and no day and no past and no future (no Las Vegas casino, however, has taken .. | Joan Didion | ||
| 59404f6 | The English social anthropologist Geoffrey Gorer, in his 1965 Death, Grief, and Mourning, had described this rejection of public mourning as a result of the increasing pressure of a new "ethical duty to enjoy oneself," a novel "imperative to do nothing which might diminish the enjoyment of others." | Joan Didion | ||
| 17529a0 | Part of it is simply what looks right to the eye, sounds right to the ear. I am at home in the West. The hills of the coastal ranges look "right" to me, the particular flat expanse of the Central Valley comforts my eye. The place names have the ring of real places to me. I can pronounce the names of the rivers, and recognize the common trees and snakes. I am easy here in a way that I am not easy in other places." | Joan Didion | ||
| d44e491 | Webley Edwards was on the radio, they remember that, and what he said that morning again and again was "This is an air raid, take cover, this is the real McCoy." That is not a remarkable thing to say, but it is a remarkable thing to have in one's memory." | war | Joan Didion | |
| 1d37120 | ambition meant never being satisfied, to be always hungering for something more, constantly pushing forward because no success could ever be big enough to quell the need for new and even bigger successes, | Paul Auster | ||
| 1db6f25 | but such is the price you pay for leaving home, and as long as you continue to travel, the nowhere that lies between the here of home and the there of somewhere else will continue to be one of the places where you live. | Paul Auster | ||
| 0f14203 | It's just another word for the same thing. You want to believe in some hidden purpose. You're trying to persuade yourself there's a reason for what happens in the world. I don't care what you call it--God or luck or harmony-- it all comes down to the same bullshit. It's a way of avoiding the facts, of refusing to look at how things really work. | Paul Auster | ||
| c42ea6d | It was one of the most sublimely exhilarating moments of my life. I was half a step in front of the real, an inch or two beyond the confines of my body, and when the thing happened just as I thought it would, I felt my skin had become transparent. I wasn't occupying space anymore so much as melting into it. What was around me was also inside me, and I had only to look into myself in order to see the world. | Paul Auster | ||
| 0f58ad5 | The sun is the past, the earth is the present, the moon is the future. | Paul Auster |